Essay: Propaganda in the 20th century was designed to manipulate collective and individual memory

It is possible to view memory from two different perspectives – that of the collective and that of the individual. The two are clearly linked by the influence they have on each other and cannot be separated and thus, must be examined together. Aleida Assmann suggests that collective memory is ‘dynamic ‘ and is formed through the individual. It unites people to make them feel as though they are part of a shared group, and can be seen clearly in the public sphere; for example, through the education system, museums and ‘official definitions of historical events’ (p.3). Individual memory can be described as ‘volatile and transient’ (p.3) and is much harder to perceive than collective memory. It is therefore more difficult to influence because, as Assmann confirms, ‘family stories are often preserved across generations through oral transmission’ (p.4). Due to this, there may not always be full cohesion between collective and individual memory, with the latter being much more challenging to measure. The difference between the two can be seen through how both are observed and assessed. Collective memory is much easier to examine given its social nature, yet it becomes more challenging in the case of individual memory. As the name suggests, individual memory is a lot more personal and, therefore examples of it would be found in diary entries or conversations. However, due to certain political situations during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, individual memory was not always made public or was oppressed. Thus, it is difficult to accurately judge whether it was successfully influenced overall. Propaganda was helpful to leaders, and they used it to influence memory because it allowed them to legitimise themselves and their beliefs, as well promote unity through shared ideas of the past and encourage patriotism. In this way, one of the goals of propaganda in this time was to deliberately influence both collective and individual memory for these reasons. However, it must be noted that the production of propaganda had various aims and intentions as well as this.
This essay will examine the cases of both France and Spain between 1933 – 1975, focusing on the recreation of a mythical past under Vichy, the Gaullist myth, and Colonial memory in France, together with international propaganda for the Republicans during the Civil War, Franco’s policies towards the Republicans during his dictatorship and Franco’s use of the past in Spain. How memory was used in each of these countries will be analysed as well as the possible motives for this, as well as establishing any similarities or differences in the two approaches to influencing memory.
The propaganda of Vichy France was designed to influence both collective and individual memory through the National Revolution, which reinforced the need to return to a simpler way of life. Under Pétain’s National Revolution, the values of travail, famille, patrie heavily promoted a return to a more traditional way of life. Debbie Lackerstein supports this, since in Pétain’s view, ‘stable order could be found in France’s pre-decadent past ‘. Pétain saw France under the Third Republic as being too decadent, and thought that France had to return to how it was pre-1789 in order to prosper. Lackerstein suggests that ‘Vichy wanted to erase any taint of the politics of the Third Republic’ (p.126) while also ‘capturing some of the energy that opposed it’ (p.126), because if ‘such energy could be converted to unity, it would bolster the government’ (p. 126). Lackerstein further confirms that examples of the nostalgic policies promoted under Vichy could be seen in all aspects of the dévise of the regime, especially with the policies encouraging a ‘return’ (p. 149) for example a ‘retour à la terre’ (p. 149) through agricultural policies and the ‘retour au foyer’ (p. 149) which showed the importance of traditional family values, which, further supported by Camille Mahé, can be seen as ‘the basis of national regeneration ‘. A particular emphasis was placed on returning to agriculture, with many propaganda posters such as :
The attention given to this rural way of life can be seen as drawing on a ‘mythical past in which society was held together in an organic balance by hard work’ (Lackerstein, p. 95). Lynn T. Ramey further reinforces this by explaing how films made in Occupied France such as Les Visiteurs du Soir and L’Éternel Retour are examples of the use of a ‘mythical past’ in propaganda in order to ‘escape difficult anxieties of the time’ (p. 146), adding that it can also promote a ‘nostalgic nationalism’ (p. 143) to viewers. Pétain promoted various policies encouraging the French to return to the family farm, highlighting the importance of this labour, as it was France’s ‘supreme resource’ (Lackerstein, p. 98). However, it must be noted that there was little uptake of these nostalgic policies and Lackerstein adds that the Vichy government ‘did little to protect the interests of those it claimed were the moral and spiritual backbone of the national community’ (p. 98). The idea of the National Revolution can be seen as contradictory in nature because, while there were a lot of policies which looked for a return to a mythical past, these ‘coexisted with grandiose plans for change’ (Lackerstein, p. 95) and its economic policies ‘accommodated both reactionary and modernising tendencies’ (p. 95). Lackerstein further analyses that these contrasting policies were both able to exist under Vichy since they were ‘fantasies’ (p. 95). Sarah Fishman also supports this, and describes how Vichy wished to ‘reshape French society ‘ through the National Revolution and ‘remould it to conform to conservative ideals of authority, obedience and hierarchy’ (p. xiv). Furthermore, it must be noted that the use of the memory of a mythical past was not only used by the Vichy regime, but also by the Resistance, as Ramey underlines the irony that ‘Joan of Arc was claimed as a symbol for both sides’ (p. 144). In this way, propaganda was designed to allude to memories of the past and its greatness, promising that this could once again be achieved. The use of memory in this way gave the regime legitimacy, and presented the solution to France’s problems with the clear and simple message that France only needed to look to the past in order to improve. Vichy also sought to foster both unity and nationalism through the recreation of this mythical past, as the collective remembering of it brought people together and evoked feelings of pride.
However, these sentiments were overhauled by Charles de Gaulle after the Liberation, as de Gaulle chose to focus on the supposed illegality of Vichy. Sudhir Hazareesingh further explains how de Gaulle ‘stigmatised’ Vichy, ‘highlighting its “anti-French” character’ (p. 20), despite it being elected. This formed part of the Gaullist myth, which was established through the appeals of the 18th and 22nd June 1940, the influence of which can still be seen in France today. The memory of the famous Appel du 18 juin was manipulated greatly by de Gaulle, as Hazareesingh explains that ‘very few people heard de Gaulle’s original broadcast’ (p. 6) and most French people ‘only knew him as a disembodied voice on the airways’ (p. 28). Nonetheless, the memory of the appeal lives on in French history, commemorated with a bronze plaque below the Arc de Triomphe, and as Hazareesingh adds, his march down the Champs-Elysées in Paris on 25th August 1944 ‘remains one of the iconic moments in modern French history’ (p. xiii). The myth was further established with de Gaulle’s propagandistic speech in Paris on this day, as Rousso elaborates, de Gaulle took the opportunity to ‘rewrite the history of war years ‘ asserting that the Paris was ‘liberé par lui-même, liberé par son peuple ’ in the speech. With these speeches he deliberately tried to influence the memory of the Occupation, emphasising the French effort, and diminishing the importance of the allies. In doing this he leads the listener to believe that the whole of Paris, and France, had been involved in this struggle. Hazareesingh adds that de Gaulle implies that ‘during the four years of occupation, national sovereignty had been devolved to the Free French ‘ (p. 27) in London and that the ‘Republic never ceased to exist ‘ (p. 28). In this way, de Gaulle removed the guilt that the French people had surrounding this time period and also allowed him to portray himself as the physical embodiment of the French Republic. This view continued to be popular in France since, as David Lees explains, the ‘Gaullist government repressed any messages that were counter to the simplicity presented by de Gaulle’s 25 August 1944 speech ‘ and thus, this remained the accepted view in France for a long time. Rousso asserts that through the combination of these propagandistic events, amongst other factors, de Gaulle helped form Vichy Syndrome, which Rousso claims has ultimately lead to French people being ‘‘obsessed’ with the memory of Vichy and the Occupation ‘. Rousso further details how, in the years following the Occupation, ‘many important issues were ignored’ (p. 26) and thus, memories of the war ‘would only develop at the cost of distorting the realities’ (p. 26) while ‘partisan memories and rivalries blocked the formation of a more accurate “official memory”‘ (p. 26). Vichy syndrome presented itself in various different ways in society and was the ‘result of either society’s difficulty in dealing with the Occupation or of ideological and political conflicts that gave rise to competing representations of history’ (p. 272). Through Rousso’s argument, it is clear to see that de Gaulle’s propaganda allowed him to influence the memory of certain events and use it to his advantage. Influencing memory after Vichy, and establishing, what Rousso describes as a ‘sublimated version of history’ (p. 82), allowed de Gaulle to ‘bestow an “invented honour”‘ (p. 82) onto France and permitted the country to appropriate “French grandeur” (p. 82) by presenting France as an ‘undivided nation whose military glory had been restored through four years of valiant patriotic struggle ‘. It can be argued that this myth was widely accepted due to the fact that it is what the French wanted to hear at the time. Rousso confirms that the ‘post-war citizen clung to the reassuring image of a resisting France’ (p. 19). By presenting himself in his speeches as the embodiment of France, de Gaulle gave himself the legitimacy he needed to govern. The Gaullist myth gave both strength and grandeur, not only to de Gaulle, but to France as well.
Propaganda was additionally used to influence memory during the Algerian war, in particular from the French side. Nicolas Bancel comments on how the French wished to depict their presence in Algeria as a ‘civilising mission ‘. This was a common theme in propaganda relating to French colonies, as Bancel observes that it portrayed a version of ‘savages that would at last be civilised’ (p. 47) thanks to the mission, which was a ‘logical extension of human rights’ (p. 47). This can be further illustrated with this propaganda poster from 1957, which shows a solider educating two Algerian children :
Due to the language of the poster, it could be inferred that it is aimed at a French audience. It presents the soldier, and therefore France, as a benevolent, kind presence providing enlightenment to the country. Lees explains how, when the war began, ‘propaganda was not required to convince the French public of the importance of retaining French Algeria’ (p. 8), since the theme of the Empire had been ‘promoted consistently in State mass media propaganda since Daladier’ (p. 8) and thus was still ‘hugely popular’ (p. 8) by the time the war broke out. However, as the war went on and more lives were lost, it became increasingly necessary to produce propaganda to convince the French public that it was worth the effort. This poster is described by Lees as being a ‘clear signal of the contribution France was making to Algeria’ (p. 9) and, while the text can be seen as being aimed at a French audience, the image can be understood by everyone, including the Algerians, many of whom were illiterate and unable to understand French. By promoting this image in their propaganda, the French intended to alter how their presence in Algeria was remembered, and also to legitimise it. This was achieved by illustrating, with examples such as this poster, how the French presence in Algeria was something positive which people should be proud of, as opposed to focusing on the darker, more negative side of the war and French Algeria. This being said, Lees confirms that public opinion began to change as the war went on as the ‘human cost of the conflict’ (p. 9) increased. This was reflected in the shift in the message of propaganda under de Gaulle where ‘television was the first medium to shift from promoting French Algeria to rallying support behind de Gaulle’s mooted independence referendum’ (p. 9). In this way propaganda was able to once again change how the conflict was remembered by following public opinion. It has been observed that, through adapting the propaganda for a changing public opinion, France could be seen as giving peace to the Algerians and listening to its population, rather than admitting a defeat. By doing this France was able to keep prestige and avoid being seen as weak, which is illustrated by fact that the outcome of the Algerian war is often described as a military stalemate, as opposed to one side winning.
In another European context within the same time period, propaganda in Spain can be seen as deliberately influencing memory during both the Civil War and under Franco. The Republicans used memory in their propaganda to gain support and persuade people of their cause. This is most notably seen in their international propaganda; for example, Picasso’s Guernica and the propaganda poster captioned ‘if you tolerate this your children will be next ‘. Picasso was inspired to paint Guernica after the notorious bombing of the Basque town of the same name.
Imogen Bloomfield further explains how this ‘masterpiece shared the horror of the Luftwaffe’s involvement in the Spanish war with the world ‘ and ‘provided the international context for the murder of anonymous innocents on Spanish soil’ (p. 10). The viewer is confronted with confusing black and white shapes, which Gijs Van Hensbergen describes as ‘an arresting and profoundly disturbing image ‘, which mean that ‘there is no easy way to read the story’ (p. 4). Van Hensbergen admits that, while nothing about the painting ‘specifically alluded to Guernika’ (p. 4), the ‘images simplicity and meaning could travel across every cultural divide’ (p. 4). Although Picasso was not famous for his political involvement, Jutta held argues that he was ’emphatic about putting his picture at the disposal of the struggle for the Spanish Republic ‘ and thus, created Guernica as a ‘piece of propaganda’ (p. 37) as well as a ‘work of art’ (p. 37). Many interpretations have been made about what each figure represents in the painting, with some suggesting that the bull is a symbol for fascism. However, according to Held, Picasso ‘denied this and insisted that the bull signified a generalised ‘darkness and brutality” (p. 37). The painting was initially shown at the World’s Fair in Paris in 1937, giving it an excellent international platform to gain support for the Republican government. Therefore, it is evident that this painting was used to influence memory on a global scale, as Picasso was able draw attention to an event that may otherwise have been forgotten. Another example of how Republican propaganda influenced memory is seen in the piece of international propaganda the Ministerio de Propaganda distributed, captioned ‘if you tolerate this your children will be next’.
This poster was designed to seek foreign aid and as, Bloomfield describes, a ‘call to arms’ (p. 12). The shocking image of the dead child intentionally makes the viewer uncomfortable and, as Bloomfield adds, ‘directly confronts the audience with the dangers of European fascism and total warfare’ (p. 11). Bloomfield further explains that the use of child deaths in particular is very disturbing and intends to provoke a ‘reactive engagement in the Republican cause’ (p. 6). In this poster specifically, the child is ‘presented as being part of the Republican collective, to which the viewer is encouraged to belong to as well’ (p. 6). The lexical choice of the propagandist to reinforce and repeat the pronoun “you” directly engages with the reader and affects the viewer on a personal level. Bloomfield shows that propagandists were able to ‘support their narratives’ (p. 3) of the Civil War with photographs that provided the ‘apparent truth’ (p. 3) of the events that took place, and such narratives became the ‘usable pasts on which calls for action, justice and revenge’ (p. 3) could be made. The child in the picture is assumed to have died in the bombing of Getafe. However, some scholars, such as Richard Stradling, have concluded that it is probable that this bombing was a “fictional atrocity” , and dispute the Republican version of events due to, what Hugo García understands of Stradling’s book, the ‘absence of eyewitness accounts and different details and figures of civilian victims given by the existing sources ‘. In this way, it can be seen how the Republicans influenced the memory of bombings through their international propaganda, by giving them extra attention, or by possibly exaggerating them in order to evoke a moral reaction in the audience and encourage them to support their cause.
During the dictatorship following the Civil War, Franco is also seen as having used propaganda to deliberately influence memory. This is most notable in propaganda regarding the Republicans once the Civil War had ended. Assmann states that, as the victor of the conflict, Franco was able to ‘distort the memory of the Civil War with his self-serving nationalist and religious myths’ . It is clear that the Civil War was significant for Franco, and Paloma Aguilar Fernández argues that the conflict provided Franco with the ‘founding myth’ that was used as an ‘important instrument of legitimisation for the regime’ (p. 31), presenting his dictatorship as ‘both the inevitable and necessary result’ (p. 32) of the war. Assmann further adds that Franco’s policy towards the Republicans was highly dependent on the ‘consistent repression and de-legitimisation’ (p. 64) of their story. However, it has been argued that this strategy was, at times, contradictory. Mireya Folch-Serra confirms this, describing how the Republicans were both ‘persecuted and demonised’ , depicted as ‘godless enemies with totalitarian aims’ (p. 227) and were ‘directly indicted as evil Communists’ (p. 228), despite there being ‘many political and ideological viewpoints’ (p. 227) on the Republican side who were not Communists. The belief that, had the Republicans won, they would have instated a Communist regime, was widely spread and, as Folch-Serra argues ‘systematically enforced through schools and textbooks, the pulpit, the Fascist institutions and the media’ (p. 228). There was heavy censorship of news that could have challenged this image, which Folch-Serra shows was ‘illustrated by the Spanish media’s disregard of the Nobel prizes awarded to Juan Ramón Jiménez for literature in 1956 and Severo Ochoa for science in 1959’ (p. 229). This leads on to the contradictory nature of Franco’s treatment of the Republicans since, as well as spreading defamatory comments about their nature, there was also, as Folch-Serra explains, a ‘suppression of information about their fate and whereabouts’ (p. 229) which drew from a ‘deliberate policy of oblivion and silence’ (p. 229). By winning the Civil War, Franco also won the fortune of being able to rewrite history and, as Folch-Serra confirms, he was able to ‘concoct a uniform image of the defeated as one and the same’ (p. 227). Amongst other forms of propaganda, education allowed Franco to disseminate his version of events as truth, which can be seen through school textbooks which Xavier Laudo elaborates on how they ‘spoke of the desertion of Republican soldiers’ as well as presenting Republican Spain as the ‘enemy within’ (p. 442) who were ‘responsible for the erosion of the nation’s Christian faith’ (p. 442). Assmann further shows how this ‘one sided version of history’ (p. 64) not only ‘protected’ (p. 65) and legitimised Franco, but also ‘prolonged the enemy stereotype of the murdered communists and democrats’ (p. 65). Thus, it can be seen that Franco manipulated the memory of the Civil War during his dictatorship and how his policies towards the Republicans after the war allowed him to promote his narrative as the truth and legitimise his position. This collective amnesia that Franco wanted to induce, discredited and erased his opponent from history. However, Assmann adds that this ‘silence did not dissolve the memory of the traumatic past’ (p. 66) and did not fully discredit his opponents, as individual memories of the events were ‘materially preserved in the earth and in families’ (p. 66).
Memory also featured heavily in Franco’s propaganda, with many references made to returning Spain to the greatness it had once experienced. Franco’s message regarding the Republicans was spread through education and Laudo explains that so was the image of the Civil War as a ‘crusade’ (p. 438) such as during the Middle Ages. Zheng Wang describes how school textbooks can be used as ‘instruments for glorifying the nation, consolidating its national identity and justifying particular forms of social and political systems ‘ and how the rewriting of school textbooks can be used to ‘legitimise the new regime’ (p. 45). This is evident on the front cover of El Libro de España, which features a boat sailing across the globe, against the backdrop of the Spanish flag. This reminds the viewer of the Spanish Empire, as Laudo confirms, ‘stressing the cross-Atlantic colonialist adventures in the Americas’ (p. 443), and the power and glory that this brought, ‘promoting a spirit of patriotism’ (p.443). Through this, Laudo explains that Franco was able to propagate his ‘vision of Spain’s history, its Hispanic mission for imperial glory’ (p. 453). Religious references were frequently seen in Franco’s propaganda, and comparisons were made to the Catholic monarchs and the unity and greatness Spain experienced under them. Miriam Basilio confirms that Franco ‘appropriated elements from the visual traditions’ of groups favourable to him, in order to increase support, and to ‘foster historic parallels favourable to his claim to power’ (p. 67). One example of this is Franco’s choice to abandon the Republican flag with it’s purple strip at the bottom, replacing it with the previous flag, which Basilio affirms brought associations with ‘royal power and authority’ (p. 68) and helped promote an ‘image of cohesion’ (p. 68), as well as allowing Franco to present himself as the ‘saviour of Spain’ (p. 68). This familiar image not only reassured the Spanish people of the stability Franco would provide but also, as Basilio continues, ‘appeased the supporters of the uprising whose aim was the restoration of the monarchy’ (p. 68) and assured their support. Basilio further argues that this message can also be inferred from many of the painted portraits of Franco which ‘follow traditional royal and military conventions’ (p. 83); once again ‘justifying his take over of power’ (p. 83) while also drawing support from different groups. Franco used references to the country’s history to create nostalgia for, what he describes as, better times. The propaganda sought to influence memory by reiterating the greatness Spain once had, and how it could be achieved again, providing the country with unity and grandeur. However, it must be noted that this propaganda was also used to help Franco gain support from various different groups by appeasing them and referring to their traditions; thus influencing memory was not the only aim of the Francoist dictatorship’s propaganda.
In the cases of both France and Spain, it can be argued that one of the main aims of the propaganda produced was to deliberately influence collective and individual memory as this helped the propagandist achieve their goals. Similarities are seen between the Vichy regime in France and Franco’s dictatorship, as both used the memory of past greatness in their propaganda. While not all of the time periods referenced were in the living memory of many individuals – apart from some possible Spanish memories from the end of Spanish colonial rule in 1898 – both regimes reinforced the greatness of the time period. The lack of living memory allowed them to create their own narrative focusing on the positives; highlighting how such grandeur could once again be achieved through the implementation of nostalgic policies, such as Franco’s catholicisation of the education system and Pétain’s agricultural policies. This simultaneously allowed them to present the preceding system of government as the instigator of the problems faced in the country; in France the Third Republic and in Spain the Second Republic. Both Republics were presented as being the last straw that ultimately ruined the country through decadence and deviation from more ‘traditional’ values. Although the values themselves and the means of propagating them differed between each regime, the end result provided the propagandist with legitimacy, due to the discrediting of the previous government, and unity, as the collective memory was harmonised. However, it is hard to judge whether this was achieved on an individual level, as any differing opinions than that of the State would have been punished. There are similarities and differences in the twenty-first century effects of the propaganda from both of these countries. A parallel can be drawn between the legacy of both de Gaulle and Franco, and how the versions of history that both established during their time in power are still widely accepted in society today, and the myths that they created surrounding themselves continue to be prevalent. This can be demonstrated with their presence still being observed in the public sphere, for example, Franco’s resting place at the Valley of the Fallen which is still a popular monument, and the Charles-de-Gaulle-Roissy airport in Paris, which is the largest in France. However, while de Gaulle’s name and grandeur lives on, largely uncontested, in schools and street names, there has been a movement in recent years intending to remove street names connected to Franco and his regime, and governmental debates about exhuming his remains from the Valley of the Fallen to reduce it’s touristic value.
In conclusion, both cases demonstrate how propaganda in the twentieth century was designed to intentionally manipulate both collective and individual memory, although it also had other aims, such as to gain support, which was in part helped by memory. This provided the propagandist with both legitimacy and unity, and also helped gain support and delivered comforting, nostalgic images to the public. The manipulation of collective memory can, in part, be assessed through studying whether the narratives established under these periods still exist today or how they have differed. Individual memory is harder to assess, both within the time period and in the present day, because any beliefs contrary to the propaganda would have mostly been kept private.